Clear as Mud
by marciewantsthev
Summary: Brittany seems to think she isn't graduating. Santana knows otherwise, and is forced to explain what some old words of hers meant.


Santana glanced at the clock on her bedroom wall for the fourth time in the hour. Brittany was running late for their "study session," which would quickly turn into studying something other than their books and notes. Santana was slightly worried about her, seeing as how Brittany had often been late recently. She figured that it was Brittany's presidency, but there was a nagging feeling at the back of her mind that wouldn't disappear.

Suddenly, the doorbell rang softly, signaling Brittany's entrance into the house. She had developed a habit of ringing twice in quick succession as a sort of announcement to the Lopez family that she was entering their home with the spare key Santana had duplicated for her over winter break. Footsteps- Brittany's- echoed from the staircase, heavy, as if they were dragged.

Santana rushed to her door, opening it to lean on the frame. "Hey Britt-Britt, welcome back," she purred, winking at her girlfriend.

"Hey."

Brittany's eyes stayed downwards, avoiding contact with Santana's, as if she had just done something wrong, like that one time Lord Tubbington snuck out for a threesome with the two cats the neighbors had and Brittany spotted them in the neighbor's backyard. She swore that the next time such a thing happened, Tubbs would be neutered. He hadn't been caught since, but there were many nights when he wouldn't be anywhere in the house.

"Is something wrong? I can put the whipped cream back in the fridge if you'd like," Santana questioned, her face showing signs of worry.

"Here," Brittany managed, handing a document to Santana. Santana frowned at the school's logo on the cover, dreading the worst. The two girls opened the document, and inside were Brittany's grades for the semester.

Her first class was algebra, in which she had somehow managed to obtain a B-. Maths was one of her weakest subjects, seeing as how she didn't really get why everyone kept looking for x if x just kept on wandering of on her lonesome (though Santana could've sworn that x was a girl with how accurate everything in that class needed to be).

Her P.E. grade was naturally an A, seeing as how she was a Cheerio, as was her English grade. She had a knack for saying incredibly profound things without even realizing it, and the fact that her and Santana had gotten very into BBC America didn't exactly hurt that.

Her political science grade was a C, which would hurt her transcripts slightly, but she just didn't care much for geography or history, and studying both at the same time just made her head hurt. _It's not like she planned to major in it or anything, _Santana thought.

Lunch was next, and though it was written on the report card, there was no grade for it. After all, it would be difficult to teach anyone anything during a time when all they want to do is talk with their friends about who did what and what shows they've been watching recently.

After that was Spanish, in which she got a B+. Their late night sessions studying each other often had Santana rattling off phrases in the language, so she wasn't surprised that she did so well in the class. She was honestly expecting another A, but not everything for Spanish 3 could be taught in the bedroom, she supposed.

She had gotten a C+ in her baking class, seeing as how one of the guys in the group managed to set off the fire alarm 3 times in the first month and the group was, to an extent, graded as a whole. Then again, part of this might have been based on Brittany's continued obsession to find the difference between the eggs in class and the baby chick's eggs that stayed on the farms. Santana explained it all to her over spring break- after a day or two of extensive research.

How Brittany managed an A in physics made most people scratch their heads, but those re-runs of Doctor Who had her obsessed with things like whether or not one can actually reverse the polarity of a neutron flow. She concluded that you could, due to charges in the quarks or some other fancy science-y thing like that.

All in all, the total of 3 As, 2 Bs, and 2 Cs wasn't bad, given that she'd have slightly over a 3.0 for the semester. Brittany did have Cheerios and Class President as other accomplishments she could add to any college transcript. Santana looked up at Brittany, confused as to why she seemed to be so upset with these scores.

"Sorry I failed you," she muttered, her eyebrows curving down as her eyes started to water. "It was just a really tough year, and I can always re-take if I need to, but I'm really, really sorry, ok? I'm sorry."

"What do you have to be sorry about?" Santana asked, feeling the most confused she ever had in her life.

"Well, those 2 Cs. I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to fail you, and I'm sure that I can get a passing grade in those classes over the summer, or maybe next year if I still-" Brittany started, but was cut off by her girl.

"Brittany, Cs are passing grades. You did just fine. Where did you get the idea that you wouldn't pass if you had a C in a class?" She asked, clearly perplexed.

"You," Brittany answered plainly.

"Me?" Santana responded, still having no idea of what was happening.

"Well, when you were all worried about you 'failing your parents' and 'what the school would say,' you were talking about that C you had in Physics at the time, right?"

"Brittany, I was talking about my lesbianism. I don't know if you've noticed, but people around here aren't quite as fond of gays around here as we are."

"Well, I suppose that I might be _slightly_ more fond than you, seeing as how I'm the one dating a lesbian, but point taken. You're sure you weren't talking about your grades in the slightest bit?"

"You're a genius, and you helped me study, so no, I actually wasn't," Santana replied truthfully. "Now let's celebrate our graduation, shall we? I'd hate for this whipped cream to go bad."


End file.
